Chapter 5 - The Sunrise We Chose
Back in Chicago, three days after the chaos on the Michigan tarmac, the city was bathed in the soft, golden light of a crisp autumn morning.
The wedding invitations had all been formally rescinded, the caterers paid off, and the white silk dress carefully packed away in a cedar chest in the attic—not as a symbol of grief, but as a monument to a bullet she had skillfully dodged.
Camille stood on the balcony of a quiet downtown café overlooking Lake Michigan, sipping a hot latte, feeling lighter than she had in years. The weight of Trevor’s lies was completely gone, washed away by the storm and replaced by an unfamiliar, exhilarating sense of absolute freedom.
Footsteps approached behind her, followed by the familiar pull of a tailored charcoal coat draped gently over her shoulders.
She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
"Federal marshals executed the final asset seizure this morning," Dante said quietly, leaning against the balcony railing beside her. "Mara’s trust funds have been fully recovered and restored. She’s resting comfortably at home, preparing for the baby, and... she asked me to pass along her deepest gratitude to you."
Camille turned her head to look at him. "Gratitude? For what? I was just as much of a victim in his game as she was."
"Perhaps," Dante acknowledged, his storm-gray eyes softening as he looked down at her. "But you didn't break. You didn't cower. You walked straight into the fire and helped us burn his empire to the ground."
A soft smile touched Camille’s lips. "It turns out I’m a lot tougher than Trevor gave me credit for."
"Oh, I never doubted that for a second, Camille," Dante murmured, sliding his hands into his pockets as he watched the sun reflect off the choppy blue water of the lake. "Most women would have spent months crying over a ruined wedding. You hunted down a syndicate-level fugitive in twenty-four hours."
Camille laughed—a genuine, unburdened sound that carried away the last lingering shadows of her past life. "Well, when your wedding gets canceled by a mafia boss, you adapt pretty quickly."
Dante chuckled, turning to face her fully, his expression shifting from playful to something much deeper, much more grounded. "Speaking of adapting... my sister is going to need a strong, brilliant woman in her corner when the baby arrives. And I happen to know a certain titanium-willed lady who has a lot of free time on her weekends now."
Camille raised an eyebrow, a spark of challenge dancing in her eyes. "Are you asking me out, Mr. Moretti?"
"I’m asking if you'd like to join me for dinner tonight," Dante corrected smoothly, offering a rare, genuine smile that made him look less like a feared syndicate boss and more like a man ready to build something real. "No lies, no hidden agendas, and absolutely no wedding dresses involved."
May you like
Camille looked out across the glittering expanse of Lake Michigan, feeling the warm morning breeze brush against her face. The wedding she thought she wanted was gone, but looking at the man standing beside her—strong, protective, and fiercely loyal—she realized her real life was only just beginning.
"Dinner sounds perfect," Camille smiled, slipping her hand into the crook of his arm as they walked together into the bright, unwritten sunrise.
